


Cracked

by abscontrix



Series: Deciphered [2]
Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Biting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abscontrix/pseuds/abscontrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock meditates on why Joan means so much to him. (Just feels, no smut.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracked

Each time Joan bit him, he felt something come away in her teeth - not flesh, nor blood, but a little snip of imperfection.

It is hard to be a genius in this world, with the distance it demands from others. It is harder still to be a neglected genius, perhaps recognized by a few but not fated for fame. He was too eccentric to fit in with the natterers, play their game, win their attention. He wanted attention, yes, but thoughtful attention; not forcibly won, but given over from those willing to give a second glance, to pick up on the details.

The pain was the only way he really knew how to be cared for, the only way that nearly anyone had truly focused on him. Under Joan's gentle-rough attention, though, he had cultivated an appreciation of the softer things, like the smooth latex of the gloves she'd bought for his comfort in bed, the coffee she made him (but made him pour himself), the way she told him when he'd done well and it somehow really _mattered_ in a way it didn't for anyone else.

And she did tell him he was good, cooing without condescension or sentiment what a _good boy_ he was when he followed orders. A small, broken part of him wanted to sob at the relief of being recognized for this, obedience and intimacy - she knew how hard it was for him. The body, the vessel, had its needs; what Joan was going to do with him tonight was much more, pushing him to the limits of obedience, _fo_ _rcing_ his pleasure in ways he would never ask for, expect, or even tolerate from another partner.

The pain would set off the pleasure; the pleasure would go so long and so hard that it would twist into a new pain, an intensity of attention and caring that shook him deeper than any physical beating. She intended to break him down with those deft strokes of hers until he attained a deep, deep oblivion, much deeper than the drugs had, cleaning out not just the ruthless hungers of his body and mind, but also the gnawing self-hatred in his heart. She recognized the bad with the good - she _accepted_ wholly the bad, knowingly, explicitly, openly - so that when he returned from these beautiful fugues, he hated himself less and less. Her solid grace drew out his darkness easily, offering him relief in ways he had torn himself apart to get before (and less successfully at that).

So Joan's teeth kept pinching, across his neck and down his back, each nip light but somehow cutting out some of this dark burden; and though it was confusing, and unfamiliar, he gave himself over to the pleasure of being cared for - whatever form that care might take.


End file.
